


The Devil Within

by 100xGrounder



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:25:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5871316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100xGrounder/pseuds/100xGrounder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy falls for Murphy. Literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy falls for Murphy. Literally.

Wings, fashioned in cloudlike feathers and whiter than January snow, soared through the midnight stars and frigid atmosphere. Bellamy knew of only one thing he wanted to be doing that night.  
Exploring.  
Angels were forbidden to roam the night sky without authorized intent. Whatever honorable deed he would use as his excuse this time (protecting humans, delivering messages overseas, helping those in need) didn’t trouble him. He had a purpose. Was it a good one? Okay, so maybe not … And maybe the authorities wouldn’t approve of him exploring the Devil’s Arena after dark and by himself.  
He didn’t care. He hadn’t been out in weeks and there’d been word going around of a group of demons wishing to inhabit a segment of the misty fog above. Clouds were meant for angels. For Heaven. Bellamy definitely did not approve of any demon gang member, or whatever they were, invading their domain. He would see them for himself and if he came back alive, he would warn everyone of their plans.  
He could be the hero.  
But Bellamy had never even seen a demon face-to-face before. He had never fought one, though he’d watched others in battle and read countless ancient books about them. He relished in his fondness for demonology. There was something so formidably curious about the odd species, he could never just overlook their presence.  
As he flew through the night he felt as if he was being followed. The memory of his younger sister begging to go with him rang in his mind. Octavia had just begun her duties as an angel, she wasn’t even ready to guard children yet—a task every angel learns early on in his or her life. How could she think she was ready to battle such dark monsters craving to obliterate her bones and feed on her blood. Asking to go with him would’ve been like asking him to murder her.  
Recollecting the facts he knew of these wicked devils sent chills up his spine. He was so vulnerable out here. He shone like the winter, a haunting white luminescence amidst a pitch black sky. He surged through the salty breeze of the beaming ocean nearby, the rich and mirthful feeling hazing his thoughts and creating a world of silence and freedom.  
Silence.  
Freedom.  
And the troubling sound of a bitter crow flapping its feathers behind him.  
The deranged little thing, screeching and wailing, surged right toward him and stabbed his razor-sharp beak into Bellamy’s shoulder, drawing blood and therefore fear. Closing his eyes and wacking his arms around didn’t help keep him afloat. The sudden attack of more birds followed. Four. Now six. Seven.  
They were all pecking at him, one ripping his wings from their feathery structure between its teeth, another pulling at his hair.  
“Shoo!” He yelled at them. Bellamy embodied the appearance of a cat being submerged into a bathtub, resistant and yelping, choking and gasping. Hitting the birds, spinning countless 360s, trying anything to get the damn things to leave him alone, he suddenly found that he couldn’t fly any longer.  
Falling and screaming with the birds following him, a high-pitched terrorizing noise made his ears ring … A whole flock of birds surrounded his crumbling body as they all plummeted toward the hard ground.  
But safety embraced him like an openhearted umbrella in the freezing rain. Arms wrapped themselves around his torso and clung tightly to his thin cotton shirt. The crows, the ones he swore were there seconds earlier just completely … vanished. Ashy feathers fell to the spongy grass beneath him.  
The remains of the flock.  
Someone was there, with him, flying above him. Or rather, he was just falling beneath him. Bell shifted his aching body in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the angel who’d just rescued him from sure death only to find that no … No, he was not rescued by an angel.  
But by a devil.  
His wings were the epitome of beauty, raging with wild fire and embers bursting out at every crease and oh, he thought, oh how horrifying it is to find a devil’s face so startlingly beautiful. The devil clenched his strong jaw and swallowed hard. A long nose, thin mauve-colored lips and what an oddity his expression was. He didn’t acknowledge Bellamy, didn’t acknowledge how very grateful he was, but maybe a little more curious now. He was curious of this fearless, dark-haired boy still seizing his strong arms so firmly around his waist and staring into his cold blue irises.  
“You’re a demon,” he declared, softly.  
“Yeah, and you’re bleeding.” His voice was fire. Like glass when it shatters. Almost like the frozen slumber of a wolf in the dead of winter. “You’re not supposed to be out here, are you?” the devil inquired.  
“I’m on a work-related mission.” Bellamy lied. “I’m giving a message—I mean, I’m, uh, guarding a hospital nearby, yeah.”  
“I can sense falsity from miles away, it’s my job.”  
“You’re a demon,” he repeated. The devil sniffled and rolled his eyes.  
“Yepp, meaning I can do things like this.” He snapped his fingers and grinned as Bellamy now found himself sitting on the dirt that was previously fifty feet below them.  
“How—”  
He cut him off. “You said it yourself. I’m a demon. I can do anything.”  
“Except good.”  
This startled the boy. His eyes fell to the soil and the corners of his mouth dropped in realization. Almost as if he were ashamed… or weakened by the thought that good was virtually impossibly for him to grasp.  
“I’ve had enough of good,” claimed the young creature, fiddling with his fingers. “I owe that term absolutely nothing.”  
“And what do you owe bad?” asked Bellamy.  
“I just saved your damn life. You should be thanking me.” The devil shoved him away and focused more on his injured wing. He sighed and brushed the fringe of his dark shadow-brown hair out of his eyes.“This is going to hurt.”  
His hand hovered over Bellamy’s wound. Once he laid his fingers onto the root of his wings, he did something extraordinary. It was as if he had been drawing out every last bit of pain and dread from Bellamy’s body and oh, what a strong craving he felt to absorb more. There was something consoling in his bones, something like sinless gold, he was imbued with the sweet fire of it.  
“Stop!” called Bellamy, wincing out in ail. “Stop, wait… what are you— ” He clenched his teeth and let out something like a roar, begging for mercy. The devil ceased immediately and found that the wound had been entirely mended. “What did you do to me!?” Bellamy growled, furiously, taking hold of the horned creature and pinning him to the ground. “You possessed, sick demon! Tell me what you did to me or I’ll kill you.”  
“Sheesh, angel. Calm the hell down, I just healed you,” he claimed, not the slightest bit scared by Bell’s threat. “See for yourself.”  
Bellamy turned his head to see the now scorching black feathers residing on his right wing. The small cluster of what used to be angelically pure white feathers were gone and replaced with what might’ve just been a fifty-foot billboard labeled “I’m With Demon —–>”  
He grazed his fingers along the soft darkness, awestricken.  
“Fix it,” he ordered, quietly. He looked back down to where the devil lay in the green grass, a pitiful look painted across its face. “Please, fix it,” he begged, knowing his wings would never be the same. “Tell me you can change it back.”  
The devil slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, suddenly more aware of what happens when a devil heals an angel. “I can’t do that.”  
“You see!” he shouted. “You can’t do good, only evil. You can never undo what you’ve done to me.” His voice was shaky as he thought about what the authorities would say once they saw him. He would have to return by morning. He would have to face his sister. All the other angels would see him and know exactly what had happened to him.  
“Why should I care what an angel thinks?” The devil shouted back, suddenly standing in front of him instead of on the grass.  
“Stop doing that.”  
“Doing what?” He shrugged his shoulders.  
“Whatever you did to move so quickly and to heal me and any of the other stupid magic stuff!”  
“Magic? No.” He shook his head. Walking closer toward him, he lifted up Bellamy’s hands and stuck them both together. Burned to one another, Bellamy couldn’t move. His hands were as good as handcuffed. “This isn’t magic,” said the devil, raising his eyebrows. “But don’t worry, I can undo this one.”  
“Damn you! Just fix my hands and leave me alone!”  
“Such a strong word for an angel… but I’m afraid I won’t be doing that.” Raising his eyebrows and linking his arm in Bellamy’s, he once again snapped his fingers.  
They were in front of a palace made of embers and coal. The grass surrounding the building had been killed, skeletons of bulls and pigs and many other animals were hanging from the entrance. The site smelled of smokey campfire wood and fresh blood, he couldn’t see where it came from–trapping a million different kinds of hope within.  
“Where the hell—” he paused, suddenly realizing where they were. He shook his head. His dusty brown eyes burned with terror, begging the devil to let him go. “I can’t be here, you know that. Take me back.”  
“What was your reason for being out tonight?” he asked. “Tell me the truth.”  
“I intended to come here and spy on someone,” he admitted. “But I didn’t really plan on doing it, I just wanted to see how far I could go. I would never willingly go into hell, no angel could ever do that!”  
“Who?” inquired the devil. “Who were you going to spy on?”  
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “There’s word of a demon’s plan to overtake the sky, people say he’s rounded up all these followers…”  
“I’m not hearing a name.”  
“Murphy. His name is Jonathan Murphy and I have no doubt that if you take me in there, he’ll kill me.” There was a long moment of silence as the devil and the angel stared at one another. Evaluating each other’s thoughts, maybe.  
“Considering he just saved your life,” said the devil. “I don’t think he’ll be killing you anytime soon.” It took almost a full second for Bellamy to interpret his words.  
A long stare.  
A laugh.  
A sudden horror.  
His eyebrows furrowed together, a dull glaze of concern and dread flooding his eyes. The devil—Murphy—shoved him inside the fiery portal.  
“Welcome to hell,” he said, ushering him in with a snide grin.

 

tbc.


End file.
